


Nostalgia

by blueincandescence



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueincandescence/pseuds/blueincandescence
Summary: Rogue and Logan reunite.The result of a challenge for a short, smutty piece on tumblr!





	Nostalgia

From a beat-up Chevy procured a couple states back, Rogue watches Logan’s long, hulking strides eat up the parking lot. 

She tries to imagine they’re strangers. He’s a fighter. She’s a barfly. 

A barfly might think to herself—a man that good-looking, that good in a cage stepping into a motel alone? That’s a sin right there. A barfly might get out of her car. Hover outside the door. Fluff her hair, hike her tits. Practice a winning smile.

The doorknob is printed with blood. Inside is dead, ominous silence. No lights.

Rogue swigs from a flask she took off Logan too many years ago to remember. Decides even the most reckless barfly would let it go. Turn around. Find an easier way to get what she needs. Strangers aren’t worth the risk.

Not a truism either of them ever acted on.

Rogue knocks twice. Then scratches over peeling paint. Logan will know her breathing, her scent. But she likes the ritual.

Logan opens the door and scowls down on her. Seventeen years come and go in a breath sharply-drawn. Half her life. The half that counts.

“Hi, Logan.”

“Rogue.”

He doesn’t want her there, but he steps aside for her to cross the threshold. The room is no bigger than a breadbox. The covers haven’t been disturbed except one spot at the edge. Rogue has to smile some at Logan. Brooding alone in the dark. Fundamentals never change.

Logan takes the flask from her. Hefts it. Hikes a brow.

“I was bringin’ it back to you,” Rogue tells him.

He grunts and drains the thing. The whiskey met the approval of the faint Logan in her head. The one in front of her has no complaints.

Rogue takes a step toward him. Logan has nowhere to go but the edge of the bed. He sits back down. She stands between his knees. His shoulders are warm under her hands. She doesn’t wear her gloves. Tonight’s not about that old wound.

Logan glares up at her, light from the parking lot giving him eye-shine like a predator. Like a warning. 

Last time he was at the Mansion, he told them all to leave him the hell alone. Rogue knows when Logan means it. She respects his space. It’s a hallmark of their friendship.

Rogue slides her hands under Logan’s bristly chin, leans over to claim the whiskey on his tongue.

Sometimes she doesn’t want to be friends.

A growl reverberates from the back of his throat to hers. For a heady instant, Rogue is weightless, rearranged. Logan clamps a rough hand on the back of her neck and anchors her to sit on his lap. Rolls his hips, fucks her mouth. Overwhelms her. It’s a scare tactic he knows she’s outgrown.

He releases her mouth with a keening sound, shoves his nose against her throat and inhales. She’s been ready for him for days. Rogue tilts her chin into his hair. Liquor and smoke and copper. The scents she seeks out when she needs a certain kind of forgetting, too.

It’s muscle memory to undo his belt. 

Logan rumbles in her ear: “Goddamn it, Marie.”

She’s weightless again, held up in one arm as she’s stripped bare below the waist. Rogue locks her knees to his sides and licks inside his mouth as Logan lets his jeans drop to the floor. He takes hold of her under her thighs, rubs her slick folds along his hard heat. In no kind of mood for a tease, Rogue angles her hips, spreads herself over the thick head of Logan’s cock. He drops back on the bed, filling her up with a jolt that spreads through her core. They savor it. 

They fuck fast and frantic. Scraping teeth and scratching fingernails. A matching, escalating rhythm. They know how to get each other off.

Rogue, already coming on Logan’s cock, opens up her veins and takes in his lust, his love. His eyes go wide. His breath stops and starts again fresh. She only takes what she needs, only gives what he wants. A small death before the big one. There are a thousand ways to chase oblivion. Rogue followed Logan into Bumfuck, Canada for just this one.

They hold each other, panting. Locked together.

Logan fucks her in the shower, twice more on the bed before giving into dreamless sleep.

Rogue wakes first, gets ready. Logan is dressed and sitting on the bed when she shoves her shoulders out of the closet of a bathroom. 

His elbows are on his thighs. His mouth is set. This is her least favorite part—the interrogation.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” Rogue has to cross in front of him. Logan takes her wrist. She can see him now, all hard lines and strong features. He’s looking her over. He thumbs a bruise on her neck. 

She thinks of her first time, the pain and pleasure of it. How gentle Logan was. His guilt and his kindness. He argued she was too young. Rogue is old enough to suspect he was right. She’ll take that to her grave.

Rogue squeezes his wrist so he’ll let go. “Thanks for the memento, sugar.”

An unspoken question follows her to the door. She could tell him why. The loneliness he’d understand. That she feels more herself with him rattling around in her head is something he never wants to hear. 

She’s half out the door when Logan asks, “Where you headed?”

With a shrug, she says, “Nowhere.”

Logan stands. Picks up his jacket. “I’ll give you ride.”

Always one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Rogue says as he locks up the room, “Aren’t you gonna make me tell you why I came?”

“I can read a calendar, kid.”

Rogue unfurls a smile she knows will melt the scowl right off his face. 

He starts walking. “You comin’ or not?”

She jogs a little to catch up.


End file.
